Page 12 of Scarlet Wars
Focus, Emma. Focus on the mission: getting to safety, getting across the borders unseen, getting to Kanata C.
By the time night had fallen, I cast one last glance at the devastation behind me, the weight of my former law training pressing hard against my instincts. Leaving a house full of evidence was a terrible idea, but what other choice did I have?
Couldn’t exactly burn it down without attracting attention. Not with other houses tucked just far enough away to see smoke.
Time to go.
Stepping outside, the cool night air slapped me back into focus. Dressed entirely in black, I found a shadowed path, my heart pounding in my chest as I pressed myself against fences and hedges, slipping behind bushes, every nerve on edge. I moved cautiously, trying to stay invisible.
The neighborhood was quiet, but not empty. Porch lights glowed faintly in the distance, and the occasional bark of a dog cut through the stillness. Every creak, every whisper of movement made my pulse spike, the fear of being seen gnawing at me with every step.
An hour passed in tense silence as I worked my way outward, leaving the cluster of houses behind. The moon had barely begun to rise, casting long shadows across the dirt road.
As another two hours slipped by, the sky grew even darker, the thick canopy of trees making it hard to see the road ahead. I’d put miles between myself and my home by now, the sounds of bustling streets of the city replaced by the eerie silence of the woods.
I hadn’t eaten. I hadn’t stopped. I was exhausted but I couldn’t stop.
The adrenaline which had fueled me for the first few hours was long gone, leaving only pain in its place. My legs ached, and blisters had formed on my heels, but none of it compared to the agony that lived deep inside my chest.
Three hours later, the trees had thickened around me, closing in as I pushed toward the state border with New Hampshire.
The air was cooler up here, the scent of pine and damp earth filling my lungs. It should have been refreshing, but I couldn’t shake the festering feeling of dread that had taken up residence inside me. The farther I got from Boston, the closer I felt to breaking down.
Focus. You’ve made it this far.
Ahead, I spotted a small clearing off the road, the remnants of what looked like an abandoned campsite. It wasn’t much, but it would have to do for now. My body was begging for rest, and I knew if I didn’t stop soon, I’d collapse. My survival depended on staying alert, and exhaustion was an enemy I couldn’t fight off.
I crouched down, unslung the small bag from my shoulder, then pulled out the one bottle of water I brought. The first sip felt amazing, but it wasn’t enough to quench the thirst gnawing at my throat. I had to ration it. There was no chance of simply walking into a store to grab more. One wrong move, one person recognizing me, and I’d be caught.
Six days, Emma. Make it last.
The darkness was thick now, wrapping around me like a blanket. I should feel safe here, hidden in the shadows, but I didn’t. The woods were too quiet, the silence unsettling. Every rustle of leaves made my heart skip; every snap of a twig had me on edge.
I hadn’t been alone in so long, and the weight of this realization hit me hard.Alone. No parents. Only me.
My thoughts spiraled, pulling me deeper into the grief I’d been trying so hard to ignore. But I couldn’t fall apart. Not yet!
Keep going north. Just keep moving.
The cold crept in, but I barely felt it.
Curling up beside the old campsite, I pulled my knees close to my chest, trying to conserve warmth. I closed my eyes, but sleep wouldn’t come. Instead, I listened to the wind rustling through the trees, my mind constantly on alert for any sound out of place.
I didn’t have time to mourn. I didn’t have time to break down. All I had was the road ahead of me and the thin hope I’d make it to Kanata C before humans found me.
Three hoursof sleep was all I’d managed.
I woke with a thirst so brutal it bordered on panic and drank every last drop of water I had on me.
Smart? No. Necessary? Absolutely.
Which meant I’d have to find a store soon, and risk exposure. Not a great start, but at least I was already closing in on the first state border.
It was mostly back roads now, I realized as I glanced at the map again, trying to pinpoint exactly where I was. The walk ahead was long, but the thought of crossing into New Hampshire in just a few hours fueled my determination.
After another two hours of walking, my legs screamed in protest, but it was the burning in my feet and the dryness scraping at my throat, that nearly brought me to my knees.
Those godsdamn blisters.
